I posted to Facebook on May 30 that I was about to celebrate one year since returning to my happy place--Fort Myers Beach, FL. It was May 30, 2023, that my brother and I loaded what I had left since leaving Evansville (and most of my things) and made a road trip south. We drove down Interstate 65 from the southside of Indianapolis (Wannamaker, to be exact) all the way to Panama City Beach, taking U.S. 231 out of Montgomery, AL, to the white sand shores of the Florida Panhandle. We landed at my sister, Heidi Jacob's, new place that evening.
Wasting no time on May 31, we travelled down I-10 and made a stop in Tallahassee. I spent many years in the Capital City, starting my adult life, going to college, gaining employment and beginning a family there (1986-2006; 2014-2020). My brother, 10 years my junior, spent some of his formative years, 1986-89, in a three-bedroom apartment. We drove through the old complex where we once lived, then toured campus and several areas of town, before re-starting our journey to SWFL.
It was after dark the night of the 31st last May, that he and I pulled onto a dark and desolate barrier island still marked by devastation. There was an uneasy, eerie feeling as we drove under the crosswalk at Margaritaville and south down Estero Blvd. The place looked like a ghost town, the shells of buildings and piles of debris everywhere. Not many street lights were in operation at the north end, so we drove slowly down that dark, desolate road. Making the turn at Connecticut St and into the Beach Baptist property, it still felt very surreal. Knocking on Pastor Shawn's door at 9:30 at night, a surprise visitor with a brother he'd never even met, was equally as surreal.
He embraced me like a brother (which he has been since 2011) and instructed me where to store my things and that "work begins at 9:00," under the tent. I learned the next day that the church had just erected the tent and had moved most of what was stored under the damaged church building into it. My job began promptly at 8:30 June 1st, helping Jerry Warren and a few volunteers that morning move pallets, break down boxes and get the place organized. They were reopening their food pantry and disaster resource center and setting up a temporary worship center under the tent. I helped there through the summer heat and made lasting friendships.
At the end of our workday, I ventured over to the beach for the second or third time since my arrival the night before. I couldn't believe I had awakened that day on MY BEACH!!! I headed over from the tent, sweaty, a trucker cap hiding my wet, disheveled hair, and made a video for my daughters to let them know I was safe and sound.
My beard, as you can see in the above video, was epic! I kept that for several months until a female friend told me how badly it aged me. Good thing I shaved it, too, as my girlfriend doesn't care for it...AT. ALL! (And honestly, I was starting to look like Captain Caveman, LOL!)
Fast forward almost four months and we were preparing for the first anniversary of Ian on September 28, 2023. I'd met Jenn Turbeville while volunteering at the church. We sat down in July for our first extended conversation, which turned into an FMB Islander interview, about the commemoration to be held that day, and became REVIVE THE VIBE.
So I should back up a bit...
I was serving under the big, hot tent in early July when the thought occurred to me that, other than Beach Talk Radio, no one was really covering island news. I had once worked for the Island Sand Paper, an FMB-specific weekly, a decade ago. I decided I would start telling the island's stories once again, so I started the online paper, the FMB Islander.
Back to September 28th, and the festivities were underway at Bayside Park and in the last two blocks of Old San Carlos Blvd. in the island's "downtown district." I'm enjoying a beverage as I walk through a lively crowd at Wahoo Willie's. I get pulled over to a bayside-facing table by an old friend, a dear friend from Indiana who's lived down here in the Iona area for decades! She informed me, when I asked about my ex, that she was available after getting out of a 10-year marriage.
Hold the phone. Come again??
That planted the seed that months later took root and grew into a beautiful new relationship. But in the meantime, I reconnected with several old friends, including my partner in crime (and beach misfit and fatherhood) Christopher Alward. We became reacquainted while he was recovering from a leg amputation just below his knee. Around Thanksgiving 2023, he lost his other leg and I spent some time at Gulf Coast Medical Center with him. He kept me abreast of the ex's whereabouts as they'd kept up a decades-long friendship through social media and occasional interaction. She'd helped him and his neighbors out in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Ian.
Alward took me in when I needed a place to stay and he needed companionship and someone to help out with his dog, cooking, cleaning, shopping, etc. While I was living in his off-island apartment, I reached out by text to the only number I had for Lynn Ann Farber, the woman I'd left on Mango St, FMB, February 13, 2014. It was months before she'd respond that the old Fort Wayne, IN, area code number was still her cell number.
I was dealing with health issues at the time and our paths had crossed so many times, including the hospital in late January. She'd dropped a patient to the ER where I was staying to await my pacemaker surgery Jan. 25, 2024. She contemplated coming to find me and check on my condition. She was worried about me, but I was completely unaware. I had thought I might run into her there. From her profile picture on Facebook, I'd known that she'd been working in EMS as an emergency medical technician for Lee County.
It wasn't two weeks late that she finally reached out for conversation, first by text from that old number I still had in my phone. Apparently, that wasn't all I'd saved for her. There was still unresolved business and a lot of love left in my heart from all those years ago (nearly a DECADE TO THE DAY!). It was February 10th when our text conversation at 4:45 p.m. turned into hours of phone conversation and a desire to reconnect. Two days later, she was at the apartment with Alward and I sharing drinks, memories and laughs. It felt like the decade between the three of us had magically vanished in mere hours. She wasn't even IN our apartment before the laughter over some shenanigans had begun.
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| Lynn and Alward shenanigans at Danny's Saloon in March |
I met her in the parking lot and she was rummaging through her work gear in the SUV. Within minutes, I was doubled over laughing with her as I donned her jumpsuit, helmet and EMS gear, including blue latex gloves. The only thing that wouldn't fit me (or make it into that apartment) were her work boots. They were too small for my size 12.5 feet. The connection was instantaneous. The minute we locked eyes, it was over for the both of us.
Not long after, I was living with her back on the island, which I had missed for MONTHS by that point! Our love affair restarted, we boasted that we were rewriting the end of our story. We still are.
To recap, I returned to this beach the night of May 31, 2023. The next morning, I wasted no time grafting myself back into my first beach family, the Cristsers and their Beach Baptist family. I met my newest sister, DebyRoxane, that first morning and my brother, Jerry Warren, June 1st. He started bossing me around immediately and we joked about his OCD way of doing things and his "Illinois engineering" degree. LMAO!
In the first week, I reconnected with my musical brother, Craig Nelms, who had me volunteering at the church's food pantry (Choice Market) way back in 2011. So many new friends were made under that tent in the first two months I was here. I even joined Nelms' band "Simply-Fi" in August and played through some serious health concerns until mid-January. It was a blast! I didn't even own a set of drums anymore, but we worked out a solution.
Fred Johnson, the band's guitarist through December, became another musical brother and we remain in contact to this very day. In fact, he tagged me yesterday in a comment on FB. So many others, like Ollie Curan, Howie Hoffman, Turtle Rick, Jenn (who I mentioned above) and "Aunt" Pat, island icons, became instant friends. I found a home on the island among them, moving into a party house behind the Catholic Church until I moved in with Chris Alward, circa Thanksgiving Weekend.
So many great memories have been made this last year and three weeks on the beach, at places like Rude Shrimp, Wahoo Willie's, Danny's Saloon, The Whale, Times Square...
My work writing and reporting for the FMB Islander has introduced me to so many more friends than I would have otherwise met. Going to the Tiki Bar at the Lighthouse for NFL Sundays introduced me to more Hoosiers (and Colts fans) than I even knew existed on this island! I also met lots of Packers, Vikings, Bears and Browns fans, too! This island is made up mostly of Midwesterners! I've even made connections to my Indianapolis high school (our football coach's sister lives mid-island).
It has been a joy to relocate back to this seven-mile stretch of paradise. If I ever leave here, it'll either be for a tiny houseboat in Key West or by body bag. Period.
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